The Slave Army

This is a very short story set in the time of Spartacus. It needs fleshing out, but the skeleton is there.

“I don’t think you understand, Glavius. I am not asking you. I am telling you.”

“But that drop, Ajax… that drop will be the death of me.”

“And if you don’t climb down, I’ll be the death of you. I’ll gut you like a f*****g fish.”

“With what, Ajax? Your sword is already halfway between here and the bottom of the cliff.”

“Stop whining, Glavius,” Ajax whispered hoarsely. “Stop whining and get to climbing.”

“By the gods, Ajax, if I don’t survive this, I will haunt your hearth forever.”

“By the gods, Glavius, if you don’t survive this, you will be haunting my hearth while I piss on your grave. Now climb down already.”

Glavius peered uncertainly over the edge. Then, with unsteady hands, he began to lower himself feet first over the precipice. The vines, stripped of leaves by those who had already made the descent, cut into his palms. The descent was slow and difficult. The early morning light cast long shadows, making it hard to discern where the footholds were. And it was cold, bitterly cold.

“F**k, Glavius. I thought you got lost,” a familiar voice growled up at Glavius. Lucius stepped out of the shadows at the base of the cliff. He handed Glavius a sword. Glavius wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and felt the balance of the sword. Clearly the work of an amateur.

“This is madness.” Glavius swung the sword once, twice. It was a blade, regardless of its imperfections.

Lucius chuckled. “Are you joking, man? This is the sanest thing I have ever done!”

“Quiet in the ranks!” Ajax had joined Glavius and Lucius at the base of the cliff, and was testing the weight of his own sword.

Glavius glared, but knew well enough to bite his tongue. Ajax had bested men better than Glavius in the arena, and had a reputation for being colder than the morning air.

In single file, the score of men under Ajax’s command crept down the path leading to where the Romans were camped. The light was dim and the ground rocky. Twice Glavius stumbled, eliciting a whispered curse from Ajax.

Abruptly, the path opened onto a plateau. Glavius could just make out the forms of the sleeping Romans. The arrogant pigs had failed to secure their camp.  

“What now?” someone whispered.

“We wait,” Ajax replied. For several minutes, all was quiet. The gooseflesh on Glavius’ arm was driving him to distraction, so he turned his attention to the fog forming from his breath. He was breathing heavily from the exertion of the climb and from the fear that was mounting in his belly. As sure as he knew anything, he knew that he would die this morning. He swore to himself he would haunt the Greek’s hearth for eternity. Then he heard the sound of shuffling feet, and a company of men appeared on their flank. At their head strode Spartacus, the scarred veteran of the arena.

“It’s time.” Glavius could barely discern what Spartacus was saying. He held his breath, willing everybody around him to do the same. He wanted to hear every word. “Men, steel yourselves, for you are no longer slaves. Before you sleep the citizens of Rome, the motherless w***e that suckled you.” Spartacus raised his sword arm. “Now kill, or be killed!” he shouted.

As a body, the slave army fell on the Roman camp. Swept along by those at his rear, Glavius raised a cry and ran headlong towards the Roman army. The rocky ground was sharp under his unbooted feet, but he felt no pain. He swung his sword at the nearest Roman, aiming his sword at the man’s tunic. The sword bit into the man’s flesh, and for a brief second, Glavius locked eyes with him. He appeared startled, shocked. Then he tumbled to the ground clutching his side, and Glavius swung his sword at another Roman. The smell of bile and blood reminded Glavius of the arena, and he felt a surge of joy. If he was going to die on the cold slopes of Mount Vesuvius, he was going to die well!

The sun was high in the sky before Spartacus called a halt to the spilling of Roman blood. The day was theirs!

Author's Note

Please review.

Reviews

[Auxiliosophiae]

Good story. I agree it could use some fleshing out. Maybe, if suggestions aren't presumptuous, a little more background on the three characters and/or the Third Servile War itself (from the slaves perspective of course). The comradeship between the three comes across very nicely.